


Taking Care of My Baby

by S_Horne



Series: How Is This My Life? [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Has Feelings, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How do you feel?” Derek enquired softly.</p><p>Stiles chuckled weakly, “like I just went 10 rounds with a werewolf.”</p><p>“That’s not funny.”</p><p>/</p><p>Stiles gets himself in a spot of trouble and Derek takes care of him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care of My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or its characters 
> 
> Just a little bit of fluff with not much plot!
> 
> Also posted on fanfiction.net but thinking of starting the series over here too if that's something that people would like 
> 
> \- S

Derek walked into the dark room wearily, rubbing a hand across his face. A quick glance at the clock showed him that it was well into the early hours of the morning. Slowly he wandered over to the bed, pulling off his shirt and jeans as he got under the duvet. A small groan came from the other side of the bed and soon Derek found himself covered with more than just the sheets.

“When did you get here?” Stiles croaked, his voice barely sounding. Derek wondered if he was even fully awake.

“Just a minute ago” He whispered in response, kissing his lover’s sticky forehead. “You’re burning up, Stiles. Sit up a minute; I’ll get you some painkillers.” Derek eased Stiles onto his back, propping pillows behind his head. The elder rose and headed into the bathroom to fetch a glass of water to go with the pills. The light flickered before filling the hallway and bedroom, causing Stiles to groan and shield his eyes. Derek returned quickly, helping Stiles to swallow the medicine. As soon as he’d placed the cup onto the bedside cabinet he rose to turn off the light once more so as not to pain the younger further. Before he got back into bed, he froze at the sight of his lover.

Nearly every inch of the younger’s skin was bruised, ugly blotches of dark colours bleeding into each other and causing small sounds of pain to escape from Stiles’ lips at each tiny movement. Derek shook his head in an attempt to clear his anger and immense pain at the sight and continued to turn off the light. He waited in the doorway for a moment to collect his thoughts, breathing deeply and trying not to lose control at the thought of Sties’ pain. As soon as he climbed back into the bed, Stiles was on him within seconds. The younger man whimpered pitifully and wrapped himself further around Derek as the wolf began to drain his pain, his veins turning black with the effort. The older man reached one arm around his lover's neck to stroke his hair, the other rubbing his bandaged arm.

Derek held him tightly, completely resigned to his fate as a pillow for the foreseeable future. “How do you feel?” He enquired softly.

Stiles chuckled weakly, “like I just went 10 rounds with a werewolf.”

“That’s not funny” Derek admonished quietly.

“I know, but it’s true.”

Derek sighed. “I should have been there... ” His voice trailed off as he shook his head at himself.

Stiles had been lured into the woods after his classes where he had been caught by another pack of werewolves trying to claim the Hale territory as their own. Stiles moaned as he lifted his head to look at his lover.

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this, sourwolf. I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with you.”

Derek wouldn’t meet his eyes, causing Stiles to lift himself onto one elbow, wincing as he did so. “Look at me.” When the Alpha refused to, Stiles poked him in the side. “ **Oi** , _look_ at me.” The elder did so, his eyes slightly glassy.

“Der, this wasn’t your fault, okay?”

Derek sighed. “Stiles, you’re hurt.”

“Really, am I? Oh thanks for the information, genius.” The younger rolled his eyes.

"This was because of me. If I had been there -"

Stiles interrupted his boyfriend's self-berating with a kiss. "If you had been there then, yeah, alright, it probably wouldn't have happened. But just cause you weren't, do not for one second blame yourself. Scott got there in time and made his message  **astronomically** clear."

"I -"

"Did you set the crazy pack of werewolves on me?"

"What?" Derek recoiled sharply. "No!"

"Then how is this your fault?" Stiles concluded simply. " _I_ don't blame you, so _you_ shouldn't blame you." He lowered himself back down onto his boyfriend’s chest, flinching as he jolted his shoulder.

Derek gently ran his finger along a particularly deep cut on Stiles’ leg and pressed kisses to his lover’s head at each of his grimaces. Stiles had begun to fall back asleep when he suddenly shot awake, looking up accusingly at his doting boyfriend.

“What? Are you in pain – should I call Deaton?” Derek immediately panicked.

“Why are you here?”

Derek’s expression turned to one of confusion. “To perform a tap dance” he deadpanned. “What do you think, idiot? To look after you!”

“You’re supposed to be on a flight to New York – you had that business meeting that you needed to attend.”

Derek gently pushed Stiles’ head back down onto his chest and buried them both further underneath the blankets when his lover began to shiver. "Shush" he started but at Stiles' warning look rolled his eyes. “As soon as Scott rang me I rescheduled; they understood.”

"Derek…”

“No Stiles, don’t even say it.”

“You shouldn’t have needed to do that – I can look after myself.” Stiles whined. "Scott told you I was fine, right? On the phone?"

Derek nodded. “Right" he agreed before continuing; "that’s why I came in to find you in unbearable pain, huge bruises covering just about every part of you and you barely coherent.”

Stiles nuzzled his head into his lover’s broad muscles. “You take such good care of me, sourwolf. I should rethink your nickname.” Derek chuckled softly as his lover’s pain medicine and Derek's so-called 'werewolf magic' - Stiles' words - finally began to take effect, leaving an even smaller brain-to-mouth filter than usual.

“Go to sleep, ‘little red’." Derek's voiced softened at the endearment.

“As much as I appreciate it Derek, next time don’t fly around the country to see me – I’m not a baby.”

“You’re my baby.” Derek replied, freezing as soon as he said it.

Stiles lifted himself once more slowly, surprise across his face. “Did you just…?” Stiles whispered.

“Oh I cannot believe I said that.” Derek’s shocked expression turned to one of disgust, sickened by his own soppiness. Stiles, however, beamed up at his boyfriend, crushing a kiss onto his lips and hugging him even tighter.

“I love you, Der-bear.”

“Alright, _definitely_ time for you to sleep now.”

It was quiet for a while, before “how is this my life?”

“What?” Derek questioned, thinking that the wolves might have damaged Stiles’ brain even more than it already was.

Stiles was lazily drawing random patterns on Derek’s chest with his fingers. “Just listen to you. A big, bad, Alpha wolf being ridiculously cute and looking after little old me who just got beaten up by a pack of  _seriously_ crazy werewolves – **how** is this my life?”

Derek shushed his younger lover, constantly stroking his skin to offer comfort and trying not to let his lover get worked up. The Alpha listened as Stiles’ breathing finally evened out, waiting until he fell asleep before closing his own eyes.

Suddenly Stiles’ slightly slurred whispering broke the silence. “Don’t leave me, ‘kay? I need you, Der.”

Derek wondered how much Stiles would remember when he woke up, but he knew his promise would serve for longer than just the one night. He pressed a kiss to the top of his lover’s head. “

I’ll always be here, Stiles. I am never going to leave you.” If possible, Stiles buried himself even deeper into his lover’s chest and Derek tightened his arms around the broken and bruised body. Scott might have chased the wolves away but Derek vowed that he would hunt down and destroy each and every member of the pack that dared to even _touch_ , never mind **hurt** , his 'little red'.


End file.
